The Afterlife Bar and Grille
by Relativity1953
Summary: Well, now that season 2 is almost upon us, it is time to give Olly a little vacation. You may see him again but we will first have to see what S2 is like. Thanks for reading!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Well, hello there! It's always nice to see a new face in here. My name is Olivier, but you can call me Olly. I am the owner and proprietor of 'The Afterlife Bar and Grille'. "Spirits for the Spirits" is my motto. We also have a number of tasty appetizers to choose from.

Oh, now don't you worry. Most folks don't realize that the old axiom _you can't take it with you_ is actually a fact. But, even if you had found a way to bring your money along, it wouldn't be any good here. All I ask for is a story – preferably the story of how you came to be here.

Now me, well, I've been around for longer than nearly everyone. And by that, I don't just mean everyone here – I mean everyone that ever was. But, after a millennia or two, I decided it was time for a change. Oh, I don't like to say 'retire' – that's for old people. Ha ha, just a little joke there… Don't take it so personally Balberith!

Now, as I was saying, I wanted a change. Oh sure, all the guys told me that I was crazy for opening a pub in this area, but I didn't let that stop me. No how! And, truth be told, the business wasn't exactly booming in the beginning. There were years, decades, centuries even, when there were nothing but regulars in here. Sure, there were random influxes of new faces, but they were few and far between.

Then, this fella… well, no one even knows his name. Hell, no one even knows if he is a 'he' or a 'she' or even an 'it' – though, I don't really go in for all that gender-assigning, PC BS. Anyway, this fella managed to piss off the wrong guy. And boy did he! Killed this human's wife, he/she/it did. And not just your normal, human killing. No – guess that would've been too simple. This demon, 'cause most of us are pretty certain it's a demon, apparently had something to prove – though, no one's certain who the proof was supposed to be for.

This demon goes and takes this pretty little thing – no really, the lady was a beauty! Anyway, he goes and cuts across her belly but deep. And, as if that's not enough, he glues her to the ceiling right above her own baby's head! So, this lady's man walks into the room, smiles down at his little one, and then turns to see his wife… or so the story goes.

Now, normally, a human would either go crazy for seeing what he saw or would be sent to the nuthouse because all the other humans would think he went insane over the loss of his wife. But this man… this man was different, sly, sharp. He kept his mouth shut about what he saw and the whole thing was written off as an ordinary house fire. But this man, this smart SOB, he went and figured it all out. He figured out what few humans have ever figured out – ghosts and goblins, demons and spirits, the things that go bump in the night… the supernatural is real.

This man was, well, the best word I can think of is _obsessed_. He learned all he could about the creatures that other humans believe are simply fairy stories and legends. He had some training already,the human sort, but now he prepared himself in whole new ways – spells, incantations, and the like. He discovered what killed who and why. And, this fervent fellow, he took to taking out as many 'evil' beings as he was able – which basically was every ghostie and ghoulie that crossed his path.

And his mania didn't stop there! This man had two sons – as I said, one was just a babe when his mother was slain, and the other was but a few years his senior. These boys were trained to fight as soon as they could stand! Well, I suppose the elder was already standing. When you get to be my age, a century or two is still such a wee thing. Ah, but I'm showing my age…

Together, these men were strong, nigh, nearly unstoppable! So few escaped their wrath that it is barely worth a mention. And, as the boys grew into manhood, they began dividing their efforts. These men, dare I say hunters, were exterminating the wicked right and left, forwards and back.

Then, one day, my booming business waned. Something happened – some say one of the hunters quit! But then, just as soon as the rumors began, another tale began circulating. Wouldn't you know it? That same demon, same foolish creature, resurfaced. The bugger slaughtered another of the hunters' beloved!

Now, don't get me wrong. My revenue has gone through the roof! I haven't seen so many new faces or heard so many new stories in… well, ever. But, this thing has screwed up twice. I happen to know there are a lot of folks around here that would gladly take him/her/it to a pit and torture and torment it until… well, let's not go there.

As for me, well, let's just say that, for this demon's sake, he/she/it meets up with me first. Because, with me, at least it will have a chance. Hell, I don't know whether I'd hand it over to the not-so-happies or try and get it a ticket back to the top-side so that it can cause more chaos and send more business my way.

Ah well… enough about me. Let's hear your story. Wait. Let me guess – you're here because of a Winchester too…


	2. Pilot

_Hey folks! Olly here again. Just wanted to make sure everyone's glass was filled… snacks sufficient… because we have a new story here at 'The Afterlife Bar and Grille' tonight. Everyone ready? Now calling #4298… Connie? Are you out there sweety?_

'I can never go home.' That's what I told them all. And, they all either believed me or simply didn't care enough to ask for an explanation. In the years since my mortal death, no one ever cared. Not that I expected them to. After all, Joseph obviously didn't care while I was alive.

And all men are the same. They are all devious bastards who only think with their… well, not their brains. Given the chance, they would all stray.

Joseph, my husband, had an affair. He was my life, my love, my… my….

I admit now that I may have acted in haste. But, after all, I was mad with grief. My life, my world, my marriage was shattered. I couldn't live knowing that Joseph… that he…

And, I couldn't just leave my children, my treasures, with that bastard.

Well… it all made sense at the time.

Then, I became something other than human. I was a spirit – a woman in white, in mourning. And, for the first time, I had a purpose. My new calling was to rid the world of devious, deceitful men.

It wasn't hard to find them really. All I did was stand beside the road and they would come to me. They all cheated, or were prepared to cheat on their wives or girlfriends. I was protecting these women!

Then, I met Sam. I should have known there was something different about him. When I first saw him on the bridge… he and his brother… there some something about them… they tried to call out to me when I jumped from the bridge. No one had ever done that before.

Then, the car, the same car I drove towards them on the bridge, was on my road. I stood at the edge as I always do, but Sam didn't seem to see me. But there was something about him that I was drawn to, so I stood in the middle of my road and looked him in the eye. He drove right through me.

Sam hit the breaks and took a deep breath, but by that time I was smitten. I don't know what it was about him. Perhaps it was those heartbroken eyes or the pout of his lips that first drew me in, but once I was sitting in the back seat of that car I remembered – he is a man, and all men are the same. They all betray!

I told him what I tell them all. _I can never go home._

He told me something that none of them have ever said. _I didn't cheat._

Well, to be honest, that took me by surprise. I recovered quickly. _You will_, I told him, as I was certain that all men would (or have).

What he did next took astonishment to a whole new level. He _actually_ took me home.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Even after I attempted to take out his heart – it's symbolic, you see. Even after all the pain I put him through, he took me home.

I stood there, looking at my home. I was angry and happy and sad and scared all at once. I hadn't seen my home in years – not since I jumped from the bridge and took my new role.

Then, water... Water began pouring down the staircase. And at the top – I once again could not believe my eyes. My euphoric, yet frightened eyes. My children, my sweet, darling children stood there… they called me Mommy.

In an instant, they were at my side. And, for a moment I was at peace. I had my children with me once again. But then, they each took one of my hands – I was so joyful…

Then… pain… drowning and yet, at the same time, fire… anguish, agony, ache…

Then… here...

Olly, I think I could use a drink…


	3. Wendigo

_Wow! Can that Connie – I'm sorry, Constance – can that Constance tell a story or what? Great, just great. Anyone need a refill before we move on? No? Great._

_#4572, you're up!_

Hey everyone, how 'ya doin'? Am I the only one who loves these microphones that instantly translate? Huh? Yeah!

OK, so I'm Dan. Dan Zopher. Well, I was, anyway. Years and years, and… well… let's just say a lifetime ago. For simplicity's sake. You know? Huh?

So, anyway. A little back story about me – I was with some buddies of mine. You know, we were hikin' and cavin' and campin'… well, long story short, we kind of got ourselves in a bit of a pickle. Yeah, we were stuck. Stuck something fierce!

Well, me and my buddies – there were four of us in all – we had no idea how long we were going to be trapped. Our supplies started getting low… then they ran out. And Carl, he was the 'big' guy of the group, he got sick and started to freak out and everything. Well, I'm sure you can guess what happened…

So, then there's three of us… well, cut to the chase… there's me. And, I couldn't help but notice that I started feeling a little different with every, um, meal. Good, better actually. I felt strong and powerful and all that. I even felt smarter.

Years passed, and my meals started becoming more and more… um… human. OK, let's just say it. Hi, my name is Dan, and I became a cannibal. But, let me tell you – once you've had human flesh, it's hard to go back to cow or chicken or… (yuck) vegetable. It's just not the same. I mean, come on! You eat a hamburger and what do you gain? A lot of fat? Have a salad and, well we've all heard the whole _you are what you eat_ argument. Do you want to be a salad?

So, like I said, years passed. And, in all honesty and modesty, I evolved. I was no longer Dan Zopher; I was a wild man! I was a strong man, a smart man, hell, I was a better man.

Then, one day, I was grocery shopping – you know, stocking up the pantry for winter? There was this nice little display of humans, at their stupidest I might add, right in my neighborhood. Who could resist? Well, not me, I can tell you!

Anyway, like a week later – you know, time moves so differently in different plains of existence… but, let's just say it was at least a few days. So, a few days later, I'm back to my routine: shopping for the season and all. There's another camp. You know, I don't really understand English very well anymore (out of practice) but I could swear I heard something about M&M's… whatever that means…

One of these juicy morsels was a fighter. The jerk actually shot at me! Excuse me for being a man, but I had to kill him.

And then there were four. Those crazy kids split up – thank you for making my job easier! I got myself a set – a guy and a girl. Then, I went out to find the other two males. I mean, you never know how much snow you're gonna get – never know how long until the groceries are restocked. It never hurts to be prepared.

So, I started out to the market, but something told me to go back home. You know… just check and make sure everything is OK. Well, it wasn't! The pantry had been cleaned out!

In my own home, I found myself running around trying to track down my sundries. Well, I'll just say it. I was peeved! I smelled my provisions and pounced – no way I was going to be outsmarted by foodstuff! Yeah… well, that's what I thought anyway.

So, at about the same time that I noticed one of my meals missing, I heard the little jerk call out behind me. I vaguely remember… it was so far back in my past… flare guns…

Hey, I think that little guy shot me!


	4. Dead in the Water

_Hey folks, I just gotta make an adjustment here – gotta lower the microphone. Now, I know what you're thinking. Olly, this is not a place for kids! But let me tell you, this boy ain't no kid. Well, he hasn't been for near 35 years now anyway. You see, the little fella… well, that's his story…_

_#4823, that's you Peter – come on up here._

Ha…Hi. I'm Pete Sweeney. And, this is pretty much what I looked like when I died – was killed, drowned. Well, my skin wasn't quite so grey, but other than that…

Anyway, so I was a small kid, a lonely kid. All I ever wanted was some friends! But no one would ever play with me. Then, I met Jake and Billy. I thought they were OK at first, but then I realized that they didn't want to be friends – they just wanted to give me a hard time for some reason.

Those guys were so mean! They were always laughin' at me and callin' me names. They even beat on me a few times. Stupid bullies!

Then, this one time, I was swimmin' (by myself!) in the lake, when Jake and Billy come by. They thought they were so funny. They'd come up with this new game, a new way of torturing me. Not much to it, really. They just took turns grabbin' my hair and dunkin' me in the water. Over and over and over, and longer and longer and longer. 'Til finally the water around me seemed to get darker and my insides started burning up like I ate fire.

After that, I was lonelier than ever. I couldn't even go home and tell my mom what happened. I became some kind of a fish or something, I guess, because I couldn't leave the water. Funny thing was though, I didn't have to stay in the lake. If there was water, I could go there! I was, like, magical or something!

I decided that it was up to me to make friends. I wouldn't be Sweeney the Weenie anymore. I would get people to play with me even if it killed them. Which, I soon realized, it did.

I was never really that big on violence, so I didn't really want to hurt people. I knew how it felt. I was hurt so many times by Jake and Billy… that's when I came up with a solution. I decided I would teach those jerks a lesson.

Then, one day I was floating around in a water cooler and overheard some men talking about the lake – my lake. They said something about lack of funding and the dam and floodgates and stuff. Basically, my lake was gonna be gone in a few months. I was running out of time and it seemed that Jake and Billy still didn't get it.

So, I started 'making friends' faster. There was Chris, Sophie, Will… Then, who should show up? Billy! He actually came to me – he finally got it.

But Jake? Well, Jake was still being stubborn. So, I tried to make friends with his daughter, Andrea. But something happened. Some guy – never saw him before – some guy pulled her away from me. Weird.

But, I wouldn't be discouraged. I called to Lucas. I called and he came, but then… there was that guy again! And there was another guy with him. They were trying to take Lucas, my new friend away!

Well, I wasn't going to let that happen. But then, after waiting for 35 years, Jake showed up! He got it. I finally made him understand. So, I let the second guy take Lucas back – after all, I know what it is like being taken away from your mom at that age. I guess all those years of being angry and lonely kind of melted away – and I had enough friends anyway.

_Hey kid! I just got a call – seems you don't belong here after all. They're inviting you to go up to that big playground in the sky. Have fun! And thanks for the story._


	5. Phantom Traveler

_#5101 – Come on, last call. Hey, has anyone seen a black vapor-y mist? Don't got a name here but… oh, I see the problem. A bit of an obsessive-compulsive, huh? OK, fine, I'll play along._

_#40 – Ah yes, there you are. No, you don't need to possess anyone here – it doesn't work that way anymore. Come on. Just tell everyone your story._

I have no name, age, or physical form. And, no Olly, I am not obsessive-compulsive! I just have a certain way in which I like things to be. It's a phantom thing.

My routine is this: I take hold of a human traveler (I prefer the beings who are filled with anxiety) and at precisely 40 minutes into the journey, I cause chaos and destruction. And I never leave any survivors! On this point, I am inflexible.

Since the advent of aviation, I have discovered that flying is far superior to any other form of transport. The feel of flying is a very tranquil thing for me, as I am accustomed to floating – being a free-moving shadow, and all. There are other benefits as well. There is always an array of yummy, anxiety-ridden beings waiting to board a flight. And, causing a plane to crash is rather easier than other methods of travel – and, there is much less risk of anyone actually surviving.

I have never before failed in my task. Everything had always gone as smooth as Boomslang venom. And I… well, I suppose I got a little careless. Or, maybe just over-confident. I was using a body fat with fear. I decided to put a bit of artistic flare into my pandemonium, and I wrenched the boarding hatch open!

It wasn't until later when I discovered my failure. Seven humans (seven!) had survived. Well, needless to say, I was quite depressed. But, I am a professional. I decided that I had never floated away from an undertaking before and I was not about to start!

The pilot was easy. The fool had decided to try and fly once more. He was frightened, certainly – deliciously. He was quite simple to possess. And, once we were in the small craft, I waited the appropriate 40 minutes, elbowed the pilot's friend in the nose, and took the plane down. And, I must say that I felt better – I was closer to accomplishing my original goal, and I took out another human in the process.

However, I soon found that the rest of the survivors were going to be problematic. You see, each of them had sworn off flying ever again. And, to make matters worse, they all believed that they were safe while on the ground – hence, no anxiety, no possession.

Just when I was about to give up, I found that the last survivor, a flight attendant by the name of Amanda, had also decided to 'get back on the plane' (it's an expression of mine which means to try once more after failing – humans have a similar phrase about a horse).

I had assumed that the girl would be nervous, but she seemed to be in unfortunately good spirits. I had to act fast – I was running out of time. I finally found a most unlikely candidate and grabbed hold.

Once on the flight, I passed a human just oozing panic. Oh, if only I had found him earlier! But, I forced myself to pass – I was not making any more mistakes. Then, out of nowhere, this ridiculous being says… well, he says the C-word. To me! The Latin C-word!

I couldn't believe my ears (well, the co-pilot's ears). Without meaning to, I flinched. When I turned to face this hideous creature, he looked at me with knowing eyes. That's when I realized that he was one of them. He was a Winchester!

Well, I would not be put off! I locked myself in the cockpit, determined to finish what I started.

We still had nearly 30 minutes to go when Amanda knocked on the door and asked if I could follow her to the rear of the plane. Looking back, I should have known something was wrong, but for some reason I could not say no to Amanda. Something inside me told me to stay close to her – I had never felt such a thing before and attributed it to her being my most challenging quarry to date.

I followed, my insides all aquiver with anticipation. But just as we reached the velvet curtain, I was grabbed roughly and thrown to the ground. I was bound, gagged, and doused with fiery holy water. It was him again, and this time there was another Winchester with him.

The first one held me down while the other began reading Latin at me from an old leather-bound book. Of course, they underestimated my strength and I was able break free of the adhesive strips that they used to subdue me. Needless to say, I was livid. Once I knocked them each away and tore the tape from my mouth, I calmed myself by tormenting one of the brothers with my knowledge of his girlfriend's death.

However, I also underestimated the brothers. While my attention was taken with one, the other regained his footing and pinned me to the floor once again, yelling at his brother to finish with the ritual. With my last bit of strength, I was able to knock the book from the Winchester, but it was too late. He had finished his rite and I was expelled from the human I had inhabited.

I next did the first thing I could think of – I surged into the plane itself and caused it to plummet. I was so set on my task, congratulating myself for the victory, that I didn't notice the Winchesters were not finished. They used some other magic in their arsenal and the plane was struck with such a force that I was banished.

And now, here I am. Just one more mark, another nameless casualty, in the Winchester scorebook.


	6. Bloody Mary

_5134? Now calling #5134! Could someone check the mirrors in the… Oh, never mind. I see her. Mary…_

- gasps -

_Oh, no! Sorry folks! Not that Mary. Not their Mary._

- relieved sighs -

Isn't that just my luck? I am one of the most famous legends ever and now, because of some inconsequential woman's untimely demise, no one remembers me!

Of course, I suppose that's been happening all my life (and afterlife). When I was among the living, I met a man – Trevor. He was a doctor. And, we were very much in love. But, unfortunately, I met him too late. He was already spoken for – married.

But, if you have ever been in love… well, love does not always hold itself to conventional ways of thinking. Regrettably, Trevor would not be convinced of this. His solution was to stay married to his wife and see me on the sly. Well, I thought, two can play at that little game – and I threatened to tell his wife of our… arrangement.

But, apparently two could not play that game… did I mention Trevor was a surgeon?

He was very cross at the idea that I could 'ruin his life' – which, of course, was not my intention. I was merely trying to find a means to an end, to find a way to keep us together.

After my little warning, Trevor flew into a rage. Apparently, my cries of 'Trevor, don't you see…' were just added kindling. He scooped up his medical bag and withdrew a scalpel before I even had time to shed a tear.

I remember blinding pain – no pun intended.

I heard him say, over and over again, "Bloody hell, Mary! You don't understand! Bloody hell. Bloody hell, Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary."

I tried, once I was alone, to write his name – trying to forget that I was using my own blood as ink. Trying to forget that it felt as if it were my heart, not just my eyes, which had been cut out so cruelly!

When I opened my eyes – surprised that they worked – I found myself looking down at a man. I didn't recognize him, but I recognized something else. I recognized his guilt.

He was reaching around me, though I don't know what he was doing. Then, he looked at me. He tilted his head, did some adjusting, and said something about the mirror being straight.

I stared at him with disgust – the guilt of murdering his poor, old mother radiated from him. I didn't know how I knew, but I did – he smothered her in her sleep with her favorite silk pillow so that he could collect his inheritance and pay off his debts.

As I read the story of his sins on his face, his body, his mind, he shuttered. He looked up at me again and I saw that his eyes were dripping with tears of blood. Shortly thereafter, he was dead and lying unceremoniously on the floor.

Well, it didn't bring dear Ida Crenner back to life, but it made me feel just a little better.

I found myself again and again, opening my eyes, looking at strangers, and knowing their shameful secrets. And each time, I performed my good deed for all the victims of their crimes.

There were times when the first person to stand before me was guiltless – but that couldn't stop me. I could always find a contemptible soul nearby.

Such was the time when a familiar face appeared before me. The young woman, I believe her name was Donna, was not unknown to me. I had seen her before. The first time had been just after a triumph over a horrid man whose shame consumed him – he had not been able to predict or prevent the suicide of his wife. I had just turned to leave when this girl walked in to find her father.

I, of course, thought nothing of it at the time but now my curiosity was roused. There seemed to be no reason for me to teach this girl a lesson. Then, I felt it. Shame and blame flooding to me from the blond standing beside Donna. She tried to run, but I followed.

She hid herself away from me. I could feel her close by, but could not locate her.

Then, I was called before a young man. Guilt as strong as the blond girl's hit me like a tidal wave. Guilt from dreaming of his girlfriend's fiery death – of finding her belatedly… wait… I know this story!

This victory would be beyond compare! I stared into the Winchester's eyes and impelled all of his sorrow and suffering at him. I had him. He was mine!

But, the lesson to be learned is that hunters rarely travel alone. As I was all but tasting the young man's demise, another man – another hunter, another Winchester – broke the connection and my mirror in one abominable blow.

Now, I could have simply crawled into another mirror… but that's not the point. He broke _my_ mirror! I surged with the power of my anger, righteousness, and new-found freedom. That's right – freedom. I climbed out of my shattered mirror, determined to finish what I started.

I saw the guilt bleed from their eyes as I approached them. Perhaps that is why I didn't notice when the second Winchester grabbed a mirror of his own and held it up as a shield. I nearly laughed at the very idea… but then I saw my reflection. And it turned on me!

My own reflection had the nerve to take my good deeds and turn them into something foul; calling the justice I doled out assassination. I wept for the betrayal. After everything I have done for the innocent lives that were taken…


	7. Skin

_That's all right, Mary. Here – have yourself a drink. Most beings are taken by surprise when things come around full circle like that. Don't take it so hard._

_Now, I don't seem to have a name here. Someone didn't fill out all their information. Check your tickets, folks. #5278…_

Sorry, Olly, but I have a really good reason for not giving you my name. I don't remember what it is.

So, like, before you get all shocked and think I'm slow or something, let me just tell you a little about myself. First, I grew up in Cali – the valley. I had a bit of a tough time because I was always a bit of a plain kid. It only got worse as I got older and into my 'awkward' years. Well, those years really never left me.

In school, I took a lot of drama classes. And I was good – no lie; everybody said so. I thought, awesome, this is, like, my calling. I'm totally gonna be an actor! 'Cause, ya' know, I had this real knack for getting into character and stuff.

So anyway, after graduation, I went to all sorts of auditions. It was really tough getting rejected all the time – but I just figured it went with the biz'. Until this one time… I was wearing these pants that didn't have pockets, so I had set my car keys down when I went in for the read. Then, I like, totally spaced and left them – for real. I was the last one of the day, so I didn't have to worry about interrupting anyone else and looking like a great big jerk.

I walked in and overheard the casting directors talking. I… I… they said I was ugly! 'Plain' hurts, but 'plain' I'm used to. I had never been called 'ugly' before! And worse, one of them even said _hideous_.

I grabbed my keys and ran to my car. By the time I got to my teeny, repellent apartment, I was bawling my eyes out. My roommates, whose names I also forget, asked me what was wrong. After telling them the whole heartbreaking story, they took me out to the bar and got me plastered. They were such true friends!

I was so totally drunk that the rest of the night was pretty much a blur. I do remember some hotties at the bar – but all I could think of was that one's nose is smaller than mine, that one's eyes are more even and a pretty shade of blue, and that one has lips that I would die for.

When I woke up the next morning, totally hung-over, I looked in the mirror and thought that something weird was going on. I looked different. Better. I looked hot!

Well, that's how it all started. I realized that I had this totally cool gift! I could, with a little practice, make myself look like anyone! And, my natural acting abilities allowed me to act like anyone, too.

I kept practicing and practicing. It was fun becoming other people! But, it was an addiction. I couldn't stop. And, the more I did it, the better I got at it. And, before too long, I not only could get into character, I could get into people's minds.

Like any junkie, I was soon wanting more. I realized one day that there was something I was missing – companionship. I mean, like, I was traveling all over, being different people, but I missed having someone to talk to on a personal level.

I found this guy who traveled a lot for business. One day, I became him. I told his fiancé that my (his) business trip had been canceled. I spent a whole month with her. It was the best time I ever had!

Then, as I was getting myself ready to go back to my lonely life, this jerk calls his fiancé to tell her that he took an earlier flight because he missed her! Well, you can imagine the problems that caused – I was standing right there while she was on the phone with him!

And, OK, let me just say that I really didn't mean things to go the way they did. This chick was screaming and asking what was going on – and what was I going to say? The truth wasn't even a possibility. Then, the crazy you-know-what lunges at me. I don't even know how it all happened – but she ended up on the wrong end of a butcher's knife, or steak knife, or one of those big knives that nobody really uses from the wooden block.

And, uh, to say that I was totally freaking out was, like, an understatement. I did the first thing that came to my mind and… well, I buried her in the backyard. Thank God that these people were rich and lived far enough away from their neighbors – of course, the privacy fence didn't hurt either.

I cleaned up the blood and stuff from the scuffle and hopped in the shower to relax a little bit and wash myself off. Next thing I know, the husband knocks on the bathroom door and asks to come in. He doesn't even wait for an answer! Luckily, I have become rather quick at changing myself and ended up staying another month with him. It ended badly though – I ended up having to kill him when he smelled his fiancé's body in the garden.

So, that's how my life went. I would become some random person just so I could get close to another human being. Sure, here and there, some would reject me, but I learned how to harness that anger. I got really good at killing people and not getting caught.

Then, I became Dean. Oh my God! For those of you who, like, don't know – Dean is the smokin' hot middle Winchester. Whew! But, boy, does that guy have some issues! I actually started to feel bad for him. I mean, absent father, brother who abandons you – I get it, man. So, I guess my softer side decided I would do the guy a favor.

So, there I was, as Dean – I had the other one tied up and ready for my knife. I totally did! Somehow, he got loose and we fought. And, lucky for me, Dean is a great fighter because I would never have been able to get the upper hand on my own.

I was about to finish the kid off when I heard my – I mean, Dean's – voice from behind me. He was aiming a gun at me! I was stunned. I didn't know what to think. Here I was trying to help this guy out…

I guess I must'a moved or something, 'cause Dean shot me! He actually shot me. Right in the chest! God! Last time I try and do a Winchester a favor!


	8. Hookman Bugs Home

_OK, that's really great, kid. In the future, though, you may want to leave the part out about feeling sorry for a Winchester – that sort of thing doesn't sit too well with this crowd._

_#5411… Reverend, you're next!_

I don't think that I am in the right place. I am Reverend Jacob Carnes. I am a man of God – doesn't that mean anything to you people? The drowned kid gets a reprieve, but I don't?

All I ever did – while I was alive – was pray, say mass, help the poor, and slay prostitutes. Now, if any of those things are a crime… What? Slaying prostitutes is a crime? I don't understand what you are trying to tell me.

Well, the people I eliminated after my death shouldn't be enough to justify… Oh, they are? But, they were all unholy people. Doesn't that count for something?

I just don't understand you young people…

_All righty then, Reverend. That's great – um, thanks. Now, our next story…_

_These damn bugs! How do they keep getting in here? _(stomps on three large insects)

_Anyway, as I was saying, our next story… what? What do you mean, it's not here? It had a great story about nearly taking out the two Winchester boys. Well, I know that their mother's spirit stopped it, but…_

_Oh, OK! Let's just move on…_


	9. Asylum

_Now calling #5731. Hey, doc, you're up! _

Hello. My name is Dr. Sanford Ellicott, M.D. I am the Chief of Staff at the Roosevelt Asylum in Rockfort, Illinois-

_Uh, Doc, we've talked about this already. You aren't the chief there any more. In fact, you haven't been for quite some time now…_

(the doctor looks down his nose at Olly and silently demands quiet and respect)

As I was saying… while I have worked with patients in varying natures and degrees of psychological troubles, I am particularly interested in anger management. It is perhaps a psychological issue of my own that has led me to this study… I was an unfortunate witness to anger-related violence in my childhood. However, I chose not to remain a victim or stand idly by while others suffered, I made it my life's work to find a way of correcting such violent tendencies.

I devoted my entire education to learning about the mind. My residency was filled with studies and research dealing with the latest advances in psychological therapeutic techniques and exercises. Little did it surprise me when I was hired on at Roosevelt so quickly, and to rise to such a high position came with even less self-doubt.

I settled into my position comfortably, ready to make a real difference in this hostile world. But, soon I realized that my dreams were to be quelled by a system that simply didn't work. Day after day, I would work with my patients and day after day, I saw little to no improvement in their mental health. And even worse, every day brought in new patients that would only be given the same useless treatment.

I fell into a minor depression. I spent more and more time locked in my office, reading articles and studies to try and find something new, something better, something that would work. But, all I found were the same old touchy-feely theories and therapies. They all preached about coddling and relaxation methods. It was all so absurd that I laughed – right there, locked away in my office, I laughed out loud.

I was beginning to have my doubts that these doctors and therapists, men I looked up to for years, had ever been around the sorts of criminal and destructive patients that I saw on a daily basis. If they could only spend one day in my shoes, why, they would certainly give up on their hippie, 'peace, love, and understanding' nonsense. After all, these were not people dealing with headaches and bouts of insomnia due to a little stress. These were angry and aggressive monsters willing to do harm to others or themselves without a second thought!

And that is when I hit upon the theory behind my new study. What does one do when taming a wild beast, a horse for instance? Do they give the animals hugs and tell them to take a few deep breaths? No! The horse needs to be broken!

I knew, with the state of the world in the condition it was, that my ideas would never be appreciated – not until proven anyway. I needed to take certain precautions. After all, I would not let my patients down! My methods might have been experimental, but I was going to make them all better!

But, as the old saying goes, one rotten apple can spoil the whole bunch.

I couldn't be sure who it was, but there was someone – someone who managed to steal a way into the facility. I could never be certain who the perpetrator was, but I always felt the presence of this villain just out of sight. The closer I came to my success, the closer, too, came this unknown assailant. Until one day, it occurred to me why I was being hounded. Someone was out to destroy my work!

I couldn't let that happen! I was too close!

I began to panic and attempted to work faster. I toiled late into the night; soon I wasn't sleeping much at all. I had to push harder and move quicker and…

Then, much to my dismay, bedlam broke out. I can only guess that the same sneak who had been watching me for weeks had been the one to incite the riot. The patients were in a frenzy. All of my work was destroyed! I was destroyed.

For a long time, the asylum remained locked to the outside world. But, just when my hope was nearly gone, I received some new patients. And, they were so young – teenagers! I had prepared to use some of my almost-forgotten tools… but then, I found that I didn't need to. Through my hands, my healing hands, I could carry on my life's work!

I knew I was finally accomplishing something – I had so few new patients that I knew my techniques were working!

One day, I met a young man, Sam. He was a melancholy-looking lad, but at the same time quite angry. He and his brother were having some issues with the world, their father, each other. I felt it best to see them separately. Sam seemed pleased to be getting the help he needed, but that brother of his… Now that young man was going to be difficult.

When I went to meet the older brother, he resisted my help. I attempted to persuade him, but he became rather violent with me…

You see, some people – when they are unwilling to help themselves…

I suppose it is something that all therapists have to accept.

You can't save everyone…


	10. Scarecrow

_Yes… thank you Doctor… I'm sure you'll find a new post around here to pick up with your therapies right where you left off… good luck to you!_

_Now, next we have – ah, we have two people. #5945 and 5946… the Jorgensons, folks!_

Hello, my name is Harley and this is my wife, Stacey.

**Hello.**

We used to live in the nicest little town called Burkitsville. It was known for its apples, you see. Every year we had the best harvest for miles around – I'm willing to bet it was the best anywhere. It all has to do with hard work, care for community, and of course the Vanir.

**Yes, the Vanir has smiled down on us every year with a bountiful harvest. And, all he asks in return is a simple sacrifice.**

One man and one woman.

**Yes, that's right. Just one couple a year and the Vanir blesses us with abundance.**

And, we have never had a problem fulfilling our part of the bargain before. It seems that, every year, a nice young couple happens upon the town.

**We treat them like royalty – because, to us, they are. These two people are giving their lives so that all of the townsfolk can thrive. We even feed them with the food of our god – apples.**

And, then, we just make certain that their car will stop near the orchard.

**But, this year we hit a bit of a snag.**

Yes, some young punk came into town. We tried to get rid of him. The sheriff even ran him out of town.

**But he came back. And worse, he stole the Vanir's sacrifice!**

Lucky for us, the kid was careless. While trying to find out information about the Vanir, he spoke with one of our local professors. The sheriff was tipped off and managed to get the upper hand on this interloper.

**Well, we were halfway to our salvation – this young man would be the perfect candidate for our sacrifice. The only problem was that all of the women in town seemed to have attachments. Many were married or had a significant other. And the ladies who had lost their husbands still had children to care for.**

Our time was running out. We had to make a decision. It was difficult, but we realized that there was only one young woman that fit the bill. Our niece, Emily. She was unattached and had no one depending on her. We tried to raise her as our own when her parents died, but sometimes the good of the town outweighs the good of the one. The decision was made.

**That night, we took them to the orchard. Knowing that they wouldn't stay willingly, we bound them so they couldn't escape. Still, we were not sure how the young man was able to elude the Vanir the first time, so some of us stayed around to guard the borders of the orchard.**

And it was a good thing we did! Another young man came out of nowhere and released them! We were able to stop them from leaving, but…

**You know, it didn't occur to me until I saw the hook shoot through Harley's chest just where we had gone wrong. You see, the thing about these Norse gods – they are very specific about their sacrifices. Our couple became a trio… and the rest of the guards were all men.**

Ohhh… (slaps his forehead) I get it now! I had been wondering about that since we got here – we were the only man-woman couple left in the orchard!

**Yep.**

Well, I can't say that I am happy about the way things turned out, but at least the town is safe… What? Emily did what?

**Well that little…**

_The Jorgensons, everyone! Great story – hey, why don't you both help yourselves to a slice of pie? I suggest the blueberry…_


	11. Faith

…And just when I thinks I got'im, the little jerk pulls out some kinda gun and shoots me full of 'lectricity! But he weren't too smart and he got shocked too. So, I guess you can say that I took one for the team. I mighta gone down, but 'least I took one-a them hunters with me!

Huh? What do'ya mean he didn't die? If that shock was a-nuf to kill me, it certainly… His brother did what? Grrrr!

_Ahh, tough break there, Rawhead. I am sure you did your best._

_Next up we have #6066. Oh, now don't be shy. Come on!_

Ummm… H-hello. I think there might have been a mistake. I don't think I am supposed to be here.

_Well, Sue Ann, I have it here on my list that you used dark magic to bind a Reaper._

Well, yes – but you see, that was to save people. I gave good people a chance to live…

_Yes, but Sue Ann, that means someone else had to die in their place._

Well, OK – but I only chose immoral people. And I didn't kill them. The Reaper did.

_You chose who died. You harnessed the power of the Reaper. You may not have pulled the trigger, but you provided the gun, the bullets, and the target._

I just don't know that I see it that way. You see, when Roy – my husband – got sick, we tried everything we could to make him better. Nothing seemed to work. After all the prayers and modern medicine failed I was desperate, so I looked to… unconventional methods.

I finally discovered - through the grace of God - the spell to bind the Reaper. And Roy was saved! He was blind, but alive!

People started coming from all over to see Roy. They all wanted to be healed, thought Roy had a gift. And, he did – he had the power of belief. But, I had the power to heal. Roy was so happy; I couldn't just disappoint him and tell him that his faith had very little to do with it. And, I couldn't tell all those poor people.

We had a bit of a system. Roy would pick the sufferer to save - his blind eyes could somehow see into the hearts of the congregation and find just the right person - and I would find the corrupt soul to exchange. Everything was fine... until Dean came along.

Roy chose Dean to be healed. Apparently, the young man had a bit of a heart condition. Afterwards, Dean could not be happy and just accept his providence. He and his brother had to dig into our past, into my prayer book, into our cellar. They needed to find a reason, rather than accepting the cure on faith.

Dean even went as far as to stop that poor Layla, the young lady with the brain tumor, from being healed! And we had thought that he was a good person. Well, I don't take kindly to being deceived in such a way. Only an impious person would ever do such a thing. And, I know how to deal with the impious.

Roy felt so bad that Layla had finally been called up and then denied the restoration of her health, that he promised she would have a private session that very evening. I quickly got to work on my altar – with the video surveillance we have in the tent, it was easy to get a picture of Dean for the Reaper's shrine.

I must say that I was surprised to find Sam, Dean's brother, in our cellar. I really thought the boys would stay away after I had the police remove Dean from the property.

Sam went so far as to overturn the altar, scattering the contents across the floor. Not that it mattered. There was nothing that couldn't be mended later. And, it would have no bearing on his brother's fate. So, I simply locked him in and went back to my praying.

I could feel it as the prayers began to work. The Reaper began the transition. Dean's strength and spirit, sinful as they were, were starting to be recycled into Layla to use righteously!

I was so wrapped up in my prayers and joyous undertaking that I didn't notice Sam – how he escaped from the cellar, I'll never know. I opened my eyes as he grabbed the cross from my neck. I gasped as he threw it to the ground.

It shattered.

I was quite distraught, but when I saw the Reaper… he smiled at me. It was such an evil smile! And, before I knew it, he was next to me, stealing my life away.

So you see, I am a victim…. I shouldn't be here…

Right?


	12. Route 666 Nightmare

So, there we was – 'bout to have the deadliest game'a chicken ever. 'Ceptin, 'course, I was already dead. I starts revvin' the engine of my truck…

_Excuse me Cyrus, I don't mean to interrupt… but speaking of the truck… Well, you see, that's what we were wanting to hear from._

Huh?

_Well, let's face it kid. The truck is what got people scared. The truck is what hunted them down. The truck is what killed them._

Yeah, but, see… me and my truck was like fused together.

_That may be true, but the fact is we want the truck. See, all you ever were was a racist, punk, rich kid who couldn't deal with it when your girl left you._

But without me, the truck was just a truck!

_Yes, but without the truck, you're just the same little dim-witted jerk that you were in life. Next!_

(Olly's Note)

Max Miller is not present to tell a story because he did not meet the requirements to get into The Afterlife Bar and Grille. You may wonder how he escaped and not little Peter Sweeney. After all, they both were tormented children and sought revenge on those who hurt them. However, Peter slipped by the bouncer because he had been a vengeful spirit who took innocent as well as guilty lives when he got here. Remember, it was later determined that Peter was free to leave.

Max, on the other hand, was human when he arrived at the check-in station. He was allowed to take the other train because, though he killed, the deaths were limited to the guilty parties. Now, I know what you're thinking: he planned to kill his step-mother and was willing to kill one of the hunters. But, wanting and willing is not the same as doing.

Hey, folks, I don't make the rules. I just follow them.


	13. The Benders

_Next up we have, um, Mr. Bender. #6102…_

You can call me Pa – ever'body does. That's something I take pride in 'cause, to me, it means I'm looked to as a father, somebody who's respected and obeyed. A father is the head of the house, a provider, and a teacher.

And I was good at all of it. I had me three young'uns. There was Lee, the oldest, and Jared – both of'um fine young men. Both of'um strong and fierce, but mindful of their daddy. Good hunters, too. Well, of course they were – I taught'um myself.

Then, there was my little princess, Missy. Whew, I was a bit worried when her mother died (rest her soul) – I didn't know how to raise no girl, but Missy was on her way to becoming a right fine young lady. And she was smart and strong, too. Well, she had to be, what with living with three men in the house.

We lived a good life in our own private haven away from the rest of the world. It might'a been what you'd call 'old fashioned', but it was good enough for my daddy… It was the way I was raised and so it was the way I done raised my kin. We didn't none of us have no jobs and such; we worked our land for what we needed.

When I was a boy, my daddy took me out huntin' ever'week. We got our exercise and our meat through the hunt. And there's nothing better for learnin' – cause you gotta be smart to get the best of some animals. As I got better at outsmartin', I wanted more of a challenge. That led to hunting bigger and smarter animals.

One day, just after Missy was born and her mama passed, a stranger come pokin' 'round our land. Said he wanted to buy up the property and all. When I told him I weren't interested, he left but then came back threatening to take our home away and waving a bunch of papers in my face.

I tried to ignore him, but he kept coming back. He started bothering the boys while they were out doing their chores. Then, one day that feller made a bad mistake. Jared came into the house crying and bleeding. The feller hurt my boy!

Well, I grabbed me my hunting rifle and went out to where he stood threatening Lee, hand around my boy's arm and shaking him. I yelled at the feller to leave and not come back. First he looked at me like he thought I didn't have the nerve to shoot him. I put that thought outta his head right quick by shooting a rabbit dead not six feet away.

The feller took off through the trees, but he was yelling about getting the cops and throwing me in jail and my boys going to a home for wrongdoers. Well, I saw red. I took off after that feller and I hunted him down.

When he was good and dead, I had myself a moment of panic. I just killed a man, not a good man, but a man nonetheless. I took him back to the house through the back where I keep my game and prepare it. I made sure the door was locked so the kids couldn't wander in and see'im. Then, I found the feller's car and went through it to see if anybody knew where he had gone. The man looked to be alone in the world and so I breathed out my relief and hid the car.

As I walked back to the house, I started feeling the thrill of the hunt – now that the panic was gone. People don't react like animals. They have some of the same instincts, but they use their brains different. I never felt such a rush.

My next hunt was a disappointment. I couldn't get the same thrill hunting animals. That feller ruined it for me.

The boys saw that I wasn't happy no-mores, so's they went out and got me a Father's Day gift – some hitchhiker they found while they was at the edge of our land. I was so touched by the gesture that I couldn't yell at'em for being too close to the road.

(wipes away a proud tear)

That's how it all started. We would find somebody alone in the world, so's nobody would come a-lookin' for'um. And, we didn't take too many so's to make people 'spicious. I taught my boys like my daddy taught me, only 'stead of wild animals, we hunted wild human animals.

That's really all people are anyways, just animals that think they ain't 'wild'. But they's wrong.

Now, 'course, you couldn't always find the right person to hunt at the right time, so we's built up some cages to keep'em in until the time was right. And the boys got real good at finding the right people.

One day, they brought back this tall drink of water, young and athletic looking. He was going to be a good hunt. But, we had one in the wings already so the tall'um'd have to wait.

Problem was, before it was time for another hunt, some little police-gal came by the house and started asking questions. We got the drop on her, but next thing we knows, there's another feller sneakin' 'round the house. And that boy done put up a fight!

Well, things were startin' to go a little crazy. I had to put a stop to all these folks coming to the house right quick. Instead'a taking this new boy out to a cage, I wanted to get some answers outta'im. But, that boy had a smart mouth and sassed me and made threats 'gainst my family. I guess not all fathers know how to raise their boys proper, so I took it upon myself to teach that boy a lesson. Well, I never weren't none for sparin' the rod or spoilin' the child.

Once it was clear that nobody else'd be coming after these three, I told the boy to choose the prey for our hunt – the gal or t'other boy. He tried to refuse, but I… convinced'im. He chose the other boy.

I sent Lee out to take care of t'other boy – shoot him in the cage, I says – and then shoot the gal. Well, the boy, who turned out to be t'other boy's brother, started yellin' and threatenin' again. I nearly sent Missy outta the room. Thought his angry words would turn to cursin', and that's not for a good young lady's ears.

Now, I knew my boys were disappointed. After all, they was lookin' forward to a-huntin' that tall feller, but I has to think of my family's safety first. I kept watch a'the time and started wonderin' why I hadn't heard Lee's gun. Why, if that boy decided to go against my order and hunt that kid…

I told Missy to keep an eye on the feller in the house and me and Jared went to see what was going on in the barn. It was too dark and too quiet, and the gal's cage was empty. We checked the boy's cage and found Lee inside, out cold. We split up to look 'round.

I found the feller, but before I knew it, he was a-duckin' out'a my way and I was gettin' shot by my own son. The gal comes up and holds my own gun on me and all I can do is watch while the feller knocks my boy around. When he was done, the feller left to find his brother… 'course, I knows Missy'd take care of'im.

Then this gal starts asking me questions 'bout our hunts. Well, one in particular. Guess we hunted out her brother once. I laughed as I started thinking about what a small world it was – I mean, we hunted this gal's brother, those other two fellers were brothers…

Then I heard two familiar, and usually welcome, sounds:

The click of the safety bein' released on the shotgun

And the satisfying clack of the gun bein' shot.

(Author's Note)

Just to prevent any confusion, episode 16 (_Shadow_) is intentionally being skipped. Skipped, as in, no mention, no character tidbits, nothing. After all, Meg is still out there – so she's not talking. And the daevas (spelling?) were not extinguished completely by Sam's flare – they simply retreated to hunt another day.


	14. Hell House

_Well, now, I must say that this is an unusual story folks. This one… well, this one you'll just have to hear to believe. #6133…_

Howdy. My name's Mordecai Murdoch… I guess. See, here's the thing: I ain't real. I ain't no ghost of a crazy farmer that killed all his daughters when things got bad for me during the Depression. I never strung any girls from the rafters – heck, I never had any kids! Not real, remember?

I weren't never born, I just sorta appeared. A couple of kids decided they was bored and made up a ghost story starring yours truly and I became real. I guess I'm kinda like Pinocchio, only instead of lying, I go around killing.

See, these kids went to this old, abandoned house and started filling it with anything and everything they could think of to make it seem scary or haunted or demonic or something. Then, when they's all done with the tangible stuff, they started a-painting the walls and such with symbols. I guess one of'um was magical or something because, _poof_, I'm here.

Well, that's not exactly true. Those kids just got all the ingredients together and mixed'um up, it was them other two that baked it up and made it into something real. These other two saps come into the house and start taking movie pictures and all and put it on something called a web-site that makes everybody in the world see it. Well, these people sees it and believes it and that's where the, _poof_, I'm here, comes from.

The magic happens when the symbol and the beliefs come together. In a way, I guess that's how I got born.

Here's the downside: Whenever those two web-site-saps change my story and people believes the new story, then I changes, too. Now, if that ain't a call for an identity crisis, I don't know what is!

See, I ain't got no say. People believe I'm a ghost, but I'm not – so, I cain't be killed like a ghost. I got that bit of news from the other other two that came to the house. These two ain't saps like the otherts who call themselves 'pro-fessionals' – couple'a boneheads, you ask me. No, these two knows what they's doing. They's real hunters.

But, the thing is, as long as the people believe, I exist. Cain't be killed 'cause I ain't alive. 'Course, that didn't stop them hunters from trying. I get it, though, they don't want no more kids getting killed. What they don't get is that I'm just a puppet; it's the people 'round the world that'r pulling the strings. I ain't got no control.

So, them two hunters come to the house again and try shooting me with their guns – bullets this time, not a bunch'a salt like before. They seemed real surprised when that didn't work. Maybe they ain't as smart as I thought.

Then, there's four of'em. Two hunters plus the two boneheads. Don't matter to me who I go after – I'm just a killing machine. I go after the two stupid ones first, mainly 'cause I just want'em to stop talking. But, the tall hunter gets in the way and tells'em to git. If I had it in my power, I would'a let'im live for that reason alone.

So, I's choking the life out'a the tall hunter when the othert comes running through. Ever heard the expression: Where's the fire? Well, it was in my house. The shorter hunter spilt gas'line all over the floor and set the place ablaze.

Well, I guess I'm joined up to that magic symbol 'cause I cain't leave the house. 'Course, not being alive means I cain't get burned… or die.

So, I guess I'll just hang 'round here until the next time somebody puts a magic symbol on a web-site. Wonder what my story'll be then…


	15. Something Wicked

_Really? Now this is a new one for me. I thought that Shtrigas were all female... Well, I guess not all. I think we'd all like to hear this story. Hey, #6154…_

Yes, yes, I've heard all of the comments and all of the jokes. Many, maybe even most, of the Shtriga are female but... hey, what happened to the gender-assigning stuff being PC BS, huh Olly?

Let me clue you in a little here, people. The Shtriga are not a _type_ of witch as so many believe. We are our own culture and community. And, yes, we have both sexes represented.

I happen to be one of the very few males. You see, the male Shtriga is much more _rare_ than the female because it is much harder for males to be near enough to infants and children as they sleep. Traditionally, female Shtriga become midwives and nannies and such, gaining _easy_ access to the life-force needed to survive. Males have a much more difficult time obtaining these roles. And, Shtriga are not known for sharing.

I, however, was able to survive _and_ become a doctor. Both are significant accomplishments for the male Shtriga. There are certainly not many who could claim the same.

My life was pretty routine, really. I would settle into a town for a couple of decades – honestly, it's amazing what humans will dismiss as an unfortunate disease rather than suspecting an upstanding local doctor of stealing the life-force of their children.

Anyway, I had only been living in Utah, a little area called Fort Douglas, for a few years when I had my first major scare since childhood. I had picked out two young boys – a little older than what I usually look for, but they had quite a few qualities that fit my needs. For one, they were only passing through the town, living out of a motel, for Satan's sake! Travelers were always superior to locals as it is tougher for the authorities to find a pattern in time.

Second, the boys were living with their father. I never saw a mother, and given their choice of housing, I would say that she was either dead or a deadbeat. Single-parent households are also much easier on my kind, especially when there are no other parental figures in the picture. It means the children are alone more often.

Third, families with two or three children are the best targets. After the first child 'falls ill', the parents are so consumed with worry that the child's siblings are easy prey. Not only that, but it is not strange for illnesses to be spread throughout a family. Of course, any more than three children and you start to push the odds.

And, fourth, though life-force tends to decrease as humans age, these boys were full of it. Especially the older one – which was quite surprising! That young man seemed to have energy to spare... and I knew the perfect place for it.

So, I observed the residence for patterns and routines. One night, I watched as the father left the shabby dwelling, leaving his two young boys helpless. Then, not long after, I saw the older boy leave. Though I would have preferred to feast upon him first, I had followed him to a crowded shop and realized that I would have to change my plans a bit. I went back to the home and found the younger boy alone, asleep, and vulnerable.

I allowed myself entry to the home through the child's bedroom window. I began to feed, but soon felt I was being watched. I glanced to the doorway and saw that the older boy had come home and was now holding a shotgun pointed at me.

I panicked for only a moment before realizing how silly I was being. Firstly, the boy was young and a bit small. He probably didn't even know use the weapon he held, as was obvious by the way he was frozen on the spot. Secondly, what sort of father leaves his young boys alone and a weapon where they can reach it? I didn't think the authorities would be a problem for me in this case. And third, even if the boy escaped and tried to tell someone about me, who would believe him?

I went back to my task, almost laughing to myself for my worry, when another noise caught my attention. This time it was the father who came back. Lucky for me, the sound of the man coming was enough to make me pause my nourishment, otherwise I would not have been able to flee as he began shooting on sight. What sort of family acts this way?

As I said, I fled. I was quite upset because I was not ready to take my leave of Fort Douglas, but I was not foolish enough to stay.

After that, I traveled east. I hadn't been in the east for some time and decided to start over there. I picked out a nice little town; Fitchburg, Wisconsin. I was able to find a position at the local hospital with no trouble. And I was happy there for quite awhile.

Towards the end of my time in the town, there was a small complication. Apparently, people are not as trusting as they once were and the CDC was called in to look into the influx of the strange childhood disease that landed in our town.

I, myself, spoke to the two young CDC doctors. They seemed content to believe my story of the unfortunate immune deficiency and my lack of understanding – that I was doing all I could. But, they kept coming back to the hospital, asking more and more questions. I tried to tell myself that that was normal procedure... but I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity I got around the two young men. Especially the taller one.

I had decided that I would take my leave of the town after one last meal. One of the children I had already claimed had a brother that would be a perfect pre-travel feast. As in other cases, the young (single) mother was off looking after her hospitalized child and left the other free for the taking.

I had an odd feeling when I entered the room. At first glance, I thought the boy to be asleep. But as I neared, I found that he was quite awake and watching me. I had imagined the lad to be brave and would have thought he would run, but I _am_ a rather frightening image and he was probably too terrified to move.

I leaned in to start my meal when the door opened behind me, a man yelled out to the child, and then I was shot several times in the back. I sat stunned for a moment, trying to figure out what had happened, when I saw two men – the CDC doctors – looking around the room with guns in their hands.

I am deceptively quick, however, and was able to get the better of them. I threw the shorter one (because he was closer!) into a wall and then knocked the taller one to the ground. I looked back for the boy, but I didn't see him. Still, a meal is a meal so I grabbed the closest human.

That's when I realized why the sense of familiarity. As I grabbed the tall man and began to feed, I was met with an almost-forgotten sensation. This was the same child, the only child, that had gotten away from me years before! As the boy was now a man, he struggled but I was stronger. I was so giddy with the accomplishment that I didn't see the other one get up from where he fell.

I recognized, at the last possible second, that the other man was the older brother who had frozen and been unable to fire his weapon. Yet, this time I was not as lucky and the man fired – perfect shot, too – right between my eyes.

After all I have achieved, I was manipulated and destroyed by a _human_...

o0o

_**author's notes**_

o0o

I just watched this episode again and I may have a couple of errors in the Shtriga's tale - how about we just chalk that up to the doc being a demon and either lying or embellishing, huh? Thanks! Um, and any other times I (I mean the demons) make an error... well, same excuse.

Oh, I did notice something that made me kind of sit back and say 'aha' while I was watching. The room number of the old lady in the hospital (the blind woman who was sleeping with her 'peepers' open) was 237. That was the room number in (the movie) "The Shining" that contained the creepy woman in the tub. Interesting (to me)...


	16. Provenance Dead Man's Blood

_Well, sorry about that folks. That little Melanie Merchant – she _looks_ like a bit of an angel anyway, doesn't she... Good news is, you're all already dead so you really don't have to worry about those straight-razor cuts. On the down side, I suppose the little dear has more issues than any of us really thought – apparently, neither death _nor_ afterlife have resolved anything for her. Let's all give our thanks-yous to Mr. Erich Streator – Melanie really seems to have calmed down since he gave her that Talking Tina doll._

_So, let's move on. Wow, now here's something I haven't seen in a demon's age! A vampire! I was starting to wonder if you'd all disappeared already or, more likely, hiding out somewhere. Come on up here, #6366…_

Hey. Name's Luther. And, yeah, I suppose a lot of vampires have gone to ash lately. I haven't seen such a massacre since, well, it's been over 100 years now. After the book that Irish guy (Abraham something-or-other) wrote, suddenly there were half-witted Van Helsing types running around everywhere. And, while most were pretty harmless, there were some that didn't believe everything they read and figured out what worked against us and what didn't.

After the initial craze subsided, things got quiet again with a lot of casualties on each side. But, it seems humans have a real interest in the vampire lifestyle and there are probably more stories written about us than there are vampires left. Every decade or so, there are new books or movies or television shows starring vampire characters. It was kind of an honor when Bela Lugosi did it... but those Hollywood pretty boys in that Anne Rice flick were a totally different story. Don't even get me started on that TV show with the little girl whose supposed to be some all-powerful vampire killing machine! 'Course, the dark haired slayer was pretty hot... always had a thing for brunettes...

Guess that's where the trouble started. After the pack I had run with were nearly wiped out... between the hunters and the internal politics, there were only a few of us left. And, without a strong leader, the group crumbled. I realized that the only way to live the life I wanted would be to start my own fold.

I started slow – I wasn't very trusting at first, given my initial experience. I produced a few vampires, only one of which survived the year. It was an awkward adjustment from follower to leader, but I eventually got the hang of things. In only a couple decades, I had a nice-sized, loyal group at my back.

Which, of course, included Kate. Moment I laid eyes on that woman, I knew two things: that I had to have her and that she'd be the end of me. 'Course, even I didn't take that omen as literally as I should have...

Life was great. My flock looked up to me like a father... no, I can't imagine being a dad. Let's say they looked to me as a favorite uncle or cool big brother. We would party, hang out, just have fun. We would hunt, but I wasn't really big on the whole 'slaughter as many humans as possible' thing that dominated my last family, so we kept things simple. We usually kept a human for awhile, feeding as necessary. And, on occasion, we might choose to add to our number.

After the hunts, the group would gather around and ask me to tell them stories about my life, about things before they had turned. It always reminded me of bedtime stories after a big holiday dinner. If I had thought more about it, if I would have noticed how entranced they all became, maybe I would have kept some of my stories to myself. It just never occurred to me how closely they all paid attention – especially Kate. Kate seemed to memorize every detail of my stories, both those told to the group and those kept private between us.

One night, I came home to find a little party going on – apparently in my honor. Kate sauntered up to me with a smile on her face and a bottle in her hand and told me they had brought me presents. Just like a woman – I probably only mentioned my birthday in passing years ago, but she remembered.

There were two of them, a young human couple. Just looking at him, I could see the man would be trouble and let the others have him. But, the woman (another brunette), well she looked like a keeper. Kate could read me like a book, knew the look I was giving the woman, but I'm a lucky man to have such a trusting woman – jealousy is not becoming nor was it necessary.

But then, Kate told me she had one more gift. She handed me a gun... an old gun... a familiar gun. I know why she did it. A month or so ago, I told the group about an attack on my first family. It was meant to be a sort of lesson in precaution, but I guess I was too subtle. Later, when we were lying in bed, Kate had asked me about the hunters responsible. I told her that only one still existed and after much persuasion on her part, I gave her a name.

The gun was legendary, made by Samuel Colt himself. And, if I was current on such knowledge (as I knew I was), I knew the last person who had been in possession of the gun. It was a thoughtful gesture... but I knew that if Kate and the others had gotten the gun from Daniel Elkins, Elkins was now dead. The man would never have given up the weapon and he certainly wouldn't have allowed it to be stolen.

Part of me was proud of my flock and appreciative of such the gesture. However, the logical leader in me was infuriated. Time and time again I have told them stories of hunters. Hunters are the same as vampires in that we do not survive alone. While hunters may not travel in the packs that we do, they are never without contacts and allies. To kill a hunter means more will follow. Revenge has it's time and place, but not at the risk of one's family.

That very night, just as I thought, more hunters came. Luckily, one of the do-gooders woke our new recruit and she was able to give them away before any of the fold were harmed. But I knew, it had to end – and it had to end soon.

We set up a trap for them, however, these hunters were smart and the trap turned out to be for us. They slaughtered one of ours and took Kate hostage. They wanted the gun – it seemed they had a score to settle with a certain demon and didn't mean us any harm. While I was upset at the loss of one of ours, I was willing to trade and be done with the hunters.

But, at the exchange, Kate managed to get herself loose and hit the hunter, knocked him out. And then all hell broke loose. Next thing I knew, some of the flock had been hit with arrows – that normally wouldn't do much damage other than to their clothing, but these were dipped in dead blood. The fight was escalating.

I saw the other two hunters. One was too far, but the other was near enough to me. I struck out and knocked the boy down, then grabbed hold of him – I wasn't too proud to use the kid as a bargaining chip. The last hunter stilled, looked at me while holding onto a machete. He was just a kid as well – young, but not so young as the one I was practically squeezing the life from.

This last guy looked torn, not knowing what to do, and that's when I realized – from a distance I couldn't tell but now that they were all so close, I could smell the familial blood. And that's how I had to strike. I had to play it just right for the sake of _my_ family; I had to get this last hunter to understand that I wanted to protect my family just as he seemed to want to protect his. I'm not necessarily a 'peace, love, and understanding' type guy, but I would rather call a truce and live my life rather than always be on the run or at war. I had to get this guy to understand that vampires have as much right to live as humans...

_I don't think so_, said the older hunter from behind me. On instinct, I turned only to be met with a bullet making its way to my head. I wanted to laugh, since I thought it was a useless thing to do. But then I noticed the pain spiking from the impact and moving through my body like pure electricity. I could actually feel myself burning up from the inside out – I wouldn't recommend it, by the way; its not the best way to get here by any means.


	17. Salvation Devil's Trap

**Epilogue**

_Another Note from Olly_

Well folks, you may have noticed that its gotten a little slow at 'The Afterlife Bar and Grille' here lately. To be honest, I was kind of surprised. After talking with Luther, I had really expected business to be booming. I mean, after all, Luther made it sound like the Winchesters – yep, all three of 'em – had gone after his pack of vampires and, well... you all know as well as I do that one Winchester is trouble enough. Two of 'em together usually cause folks to either run for the hills or end up here. But, all three? Yep, thought this place would be crawling with creatures of all sorts.

But, as you can see, we're pretty barren. I tell you, not only does the quiet really get to me, but I just loaded up the stock room for the influx I was expecting!

I had to get to the bottom of it. I called up a friend of mine – Delambre who works as a fly-on-the-wall for Beezlebub. Oh, if you ever speak with someone who works for big B, don't ask "what's all the Hub-bub." They all hate it. And if the boss is in a bad mood...

What was I saying? Oh yeah. So, I asked Del if he had any news. You'll never believe what happened. Seems there was quite a big battle between the Winchester family and the Demon. I mean, the way Del described it, it was something straight out of a made-for-TV movie! Or maybe even an after-school special. Yeah, it was that big.

After the Winchesters battled Luther's gang of vampires, they became the possessors of the mythical Colt whose bullets are said to be able to kill all things evil. Well, its not really a secret that the guys are pretty nettled at a certain demon, so it was no small surprise who they'd being going after with such a highfalutin weapon.

But, it seems that the Demon wasn't exactly naive either. And, this demon's got some family in the game, too. Seems his daughter killed a few hunter pals of the Winchesters' and threatened to continue if the guys didn't give her the Colt. And you know, that's one thing you can always count on the white hats for – they'll do whatever they can, foolish or not, to protect their friends and family.

To make a long and interesting story short, the Demon's kids kidnapped John but didn't get the Colt. John's boys exorcise the daughter, rescue John, and then shoot the Demon's son. Of course, what they didn't know was that the Demon was now possessing John. The Demon gets the upper hand, throws out random taunts, and hacks into the older son something fierce.

Yada, yada, yada... blah, blah, blah... the younger boy grabs the gun, shoots Papa in the leg, the Demon takes flight, and the Winchesters head for the hospital.

But wait! Nothing's ever that simple. Del told me they got plowed into while en route. He lost track of them soon after, but Del said that the rumors flying around down-town are that the hunters are in the hospital and no one knows how bad off they are.

Well, the hospital must be St. Somebody's or have some religious affiliation if no one can find out any more. So, I guess I'll just have to wait like everyone else. Maybe I'll take a little vacation... yeah, after all, there won't be too many customers with stories while the Winchesters are down for the count.


End file.
